


Morning People

by ModestlyHomo



Category: One Direction
Genre: M/M, im not quite sure where this came from???, sun and moon au sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModestlyHomo/pseuds/ModestlyHomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis watches the sunrise every morning with the boy on the beach</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning People

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in so long and just have a lot of love kinda building up in me so I thought I might as well just spit out a teeny tiny oneshot

 

 

He extends his hand out to the water like a gesture to a friend. It’s early, just as it always is when he’s stood on his balcony, languid and pleasant, with the sleep that still rests in his bones. He watches the moon, ever present in her calm, white gaze, and with it lights another cigarette that fills his lungs with tar and a stale hope. The night has begun to ebb away just at the edges, give way to a dull blue that hugs the curvature of the earth. Upon the water, a triangle of silver shimmers under the gaze of the moon, and he ashes his cigarette with the glimmer of stars soon to disappear into the haze of morning light.

Louis claims he wasn’t a morning person until he started smoking. He thinks about this accusation he’s placed upon himself-- a simple thing really, a trivial joke he plays on himself to remind him of the real reason he wakes at such an hour. He smiles and blows smoke at the moon, flicks ash away into the garden below. No, no, that’s not the reason at all.

The real reason is because of Harry. Delightful, young, life-indulging Harry, who wakes at 5 am every morning to go stand on the beach and raise his long arms to the sea as though he beckons the sun to rise.

Louis thinks he is the entire reason the sun rises each morning.

 

In the three months that Louis has awoken with no alarm at 4 am to go and watch Harry raise the sun, they’ve spoken only once.

That morning, Harry had turned from the sun he had just beckoned to rise, and looked directly up at Louis. At this time, Louis did not know his name—just thought of him as an element of nature that was inhabited in some spry, pale boy in the flat just beneath his.

_Good morning_

Louis had laughed, and thought to himself; _yes, a good morning_

_I’m Harry_

Ahh, Harry. That was his name, a lovely name that brought new meaning to their private mornings together, albeit physically apart. Louis smiled and nodded, replying with his own name.

_Do I know you?_

The question was called up to him in such a way that Louis had to take a moment and think on it. Louis replied that they’d never formally met before.

A pleasant hum made its way up to the balcony, before Harry tilted his head back with a great smile that shone with all the intensity of the rising sun behind him.

_The sun’s never formally met the moon before, but they certainly know each other_

And that was that, Harry blinked up at him, then walked through the garden and back into the building, leaving Louis to wonder if the boy was only a figment of his imagination.

 

Louis finishes his cigarette just as Harry emerges into the garden, and the sight is always pleasant. But just at the threshold of where the grass turns to sand, he turns back. That’s certainly different.

He looks up from his stance below Louis, and grins up at him as though he knew he’d be there.

“Come down, will you?” He calls up, voice soft enough to be mistaken for a sea breeze, but Louis hears him as though the words were preconceived in his own mind.

And without a second’s thought, he’s traipsing down the stairs into the garden where he then follows Harry out onto the beach.

The water turns in on itself before them in shallow waves that break upon the sand and come reaching for their feet. Louis turns to look at the boy with his eyes gazing out at the sea with an intensity and adoration. And then Harry turns to look at him, the intensity and adoration still living in his eyes—something that makes his heart leap far into his throat.

They do not say anything to one another as they turn their eyes back to sea, and watch the first rays of light come breaking the curtain of night. They stand to watch the lavender and ginger hues come permeate the sky, and Louis feels as though he’s seeing the world from a completely different perspective. A smile tugs at his lips and he finds himself muttering the words Harry had left with him those months ago.

_The sun’s never formally met the moon before, but they certainly know each other_


End file.
